Lost And Found
by Carniel Sharmines
Summary: At the age of eleven Carl got into a terrible accident, an accident which caused him to fall into a deep coma. Rick and Lori were devastated as they discovered that their son had passed away...This is until they arrive at Terminus and they see an iconic sheriff's hat and a familiar face, But he's not the same, scared little kid anymore, instead he's a gun-wielding badass
1. Chapter 1

"Carl, honey hold my hand," Lori said and gestured for her eleven-year-old son to come over.

Carl looked up from the small bug that he was looking at on the sidewalk, He wriggled so his school bag didn't fall off his little back and ran over to Lori. He looked at her hand and then rolled his eyes.

"Mom, I don't need to hold your hand, I'm not little anymore," He said with his big blue eyes and stared into Lori's.

Her heart melted at the statement and grinned at her child. No matter how old he is, he will always be her little boy.

Lori chuckled and pretended to frown, "You're not embarrassed to hold my hand are you ?".

"Yes" He replied sheepishly and Lori laughed.

They continued to walk side by side down the sidewalk and on their way to the school. Lori occasionally looked down to check on Carl.

She's going to miss walking him to school. It's always the highlight of her day, but when he grows up he's not going to want her with him anymore, he won't need her.

Another one of her favorite things is to wake up in the morning, most people always moan about it, but she loves it. She loves Waking up with Ricks' arms around her, even though they are going through a rough patch at the moment. She loves making herself a morning coffee, then walking into Carl's room and seeing his little face wrapped in a bundle of spiderman bed sheets.

After another five minutes of walking and Carl explaining how the Star Wars is better than Star Trek, they arrive in the School parking lot.

Lori looked up and spotted Kristen waving to her with her daughter, Ava, holding her hand. Rick likes teasing Carl about his little crush on Ava, he always goes bright red when he sees her.

"Hey Kristen, How are you doing ?"Lori asked, and smiled at her friend, Carl gave a small, shy wave and Ava beamed at him. Her little, rosy cheeks brightened.

"Carl, why don't you head to school now ?" She said and ran her hand through his soft, brown hair. "Don't forget that your dad's going to be picking you up," She said and bent down to give Carl his water bottle. He took it from her hand and smiled.

"Bye mom" He waved and turned around to walk over to his friends outside the school entrance.

"Ava, why don't you go up and catch up to him ?"Kristen asked and bent down to give her daughter a hug and kiss on the cheek. Ave adjusted her blonde pigtails and ran to catch up to Carl who is talking excitedly to one of his friends.

"How are you and Rick doing? Are you still having problems ?"Kristen asked, looking concerned.

Lori sighed. "We're okay, I guess we could be worse, I just wish that he wouldn't put his job in front of spending time with Carl, he said that he would finally pick Carl up today, but this will be the first time in months" She moaned. But deep inside she knows that it's not Ricks fault, she knows that he wants to spend time with Carl.

Kristen shrugged and smiled softly, "But he still loves you both, he's probably just got a lot of work at the moment".

"Yeah, I guess you're right".

Suddenly, a loud screech of tires interrupted them both. A loud horn went off.

Lori jumped out of her skin, fear and shock prickling through her bones. She looked up just in time to see a car slam into something small.

The figure crashed to the ground, the impact of the car hitting them so hard that they rolled over the bonnet and landed on the ground with a painful 'smack'.

Lori's eyes widened in fear as she noticed the tiny figure was wearing a very familiar batman T-Shirt.

That's when she screamed.

Her scream was filled with pain and shock. A scream so loud that it could send chills through anyone's body, a scream filled with heartbreak.

Her hands covered her mouth and she ran.

This can't be happening, not to Carl, not to her baby.

Adrenaline pumped through her veins as she collapsed to the ground next to her boy. His tiny arm bent in funny angle, blood trickled from his head, cuts, and dirt covered his body. His eyes were closed and his mouth was slightly open.

"No !" She cried. Refusing to believe that this was happening.

"Carl, sweetie wake up !"She screamed, choking on her sobs as she screamed for her injured child.

Children around her screamed and cried as frantic mothers and teachers called for ambulances.

"Please! Someone help !"She cried and gently pulled Carl's bloody head onto her shaking lap. She gently stroked his messy hair.

Sobs and screams raked her body as her heart slipped into the dark abyss.

What if he's dead? What if her boy never wakes up?

The world without her baby is a world that she doesn't ever want to live in. She frantically checked for a pulse. She can't feel anything. She cried out louder, not caring at what she looks like. Suddenly, her fingers feel a tiny pulse, she gasped out in relief and thanked god.

Sweat and tears dripped from her pale face, her hair stuck to her skin and clumped together.

"My baby! My boy !"She screamed, she felt Kristen come up behind her and place her hands on her shoulders, but all she could do was look at the pale face of her broken baby boy.

The stars hung in the sky like fruit hanging from a withered tree, Carl's boots splashed in the murky puddles as he walked slowly across the abandoned railway line. His left hand hovered over his desert eagle that was strapped firmly into his holster.

He needed to be careful, he only had five bullets left, but at least he still had his machete.

He's was starting to get desperate. His stomach constantly groaned and was constantly empty. He can't remember the last time that he had food, not including the out of date snickers bar that he had about two days ago.

His blistered feet rubbed against his boots which are slightly too big for him as he wandered down the line, the only source of light is coming from his old torch. He doesn't know how long the battery is going to last. He had come across a small corner shop a couple of miles back, but none of the batteries had fit his damn torch.

The scariest and loneliest moment of his life was when he woke up in a strange hospital bed, cold, hurt and alone.

The only memories he had were from just before he walked out into the middle of the parking lot. It was a stupid thing to do. He should have looked where he was going, he can't even remember why he had done that, all he remembers is the shock, pain and then nothingness.

And now he has paid the price for one second of idiocy with a lifetime of suffering.

When he had woken up, from what he assumed to be a coma, he had called out for his mom, his dad, but nobody came. He was just a kid, a poor, stupid, little, kid.

He remembers how he had limped out of his bed, unhooked himself from the weird machines and he had run. He noticed how all the hallways were empty and dirty. Blood and a rather foul liquid had coated the molding walls and gave off a disgusting odor.

He limped down the hallway and heard bangs and groans. That's the first time he had ever seen a walker.

It had been wearing a doctor's uniform. It was so tall. Its skin was a sickly gray color.

A small cry escaped from deep within Carl. The walker opened it's dry mouth and shrieked, a bubble of red phlegm making a squelching sound in its throat, and a dark crimson fluid dripped from the corners of its mouth. Its tongue looked like it was a dark blue-ish color.

Most of Carls attention was focused on the man's head, his hair had looked like it had been violently ripped from it's peeling scalp, nothing but loose chunks of hair and goo in its place. It only had one eye, a gooey pink and white mess where it should be. Its shoulder had a massive chunk of flesh ripped from it.

Carl swallowed bile back and had willed the feeling of nausea to go away as the chunk of flesh hung loosely from the man's torn shoulder by a string of bloodied skin. It's Kneebone had pierced the skin and stuck out from the man's knee, dried blood and puss crusted around the edge.

The man's better leg had twitched, violently, almost as if he was having a spasm. The man gurgled, black liquid flowing from its mouth and made a move towards Carl.

He remembered how he had felt so sick, and terrified. He remembered how he had screamed, he had screamed as loudly as he possibly could, not caring if it drew the others to him.

He had turned around and quickly limped away as far and as fast as he could. He didn't care that broken glass was scratching at his bare feet, he also didn't care about the pain in his head and his side. But he didn't know where he was going. He just wanted to get as far away as possible.

He had managed to find a set of double doors that took him outside. He had cried in relief as he saw an abandoned bicycle outside the hospital. He jumped on it and without thinking he cycled as far away as he could.

That's when he realized that the hospital wasn't the only place that was abandoned. Everyone was missing. He didn't know where he was, he didn't recognize the town he was in. Fear and pain gnawed at his bones.

The slow memory crept like a cold worm through all his brain, he was so scared, he was just a kid.

That was until he met Tucker.

Tucker was a strong man in his mid-thirties. He had short, brown hair and a tall muscly build. He used to be a cop like his dad. He had found Carl passed out in his hospital gown on the side of the road, passed out from shock, pain, and dehydration.

Tucker was a good man. He took Carl to his house and Carl had met his wife and son.

They were both nice to him, Tucker's son, Thomas, had shown him all his toys and played with him when Carl got sad. Tucker and his wife had explained to him that the world had ended and the dead rose up and killed the living. He gave Carl clothes, fed him and gave him water, he was a shoulder to cry on when he missed his parents. He never asked questions which were too personal, but he never let Carl get lost in his painful memories.

Three months passed when Tucker and his family had finally given in to Carls' incessant whining and taken Carl to his house after he had told them his address. Tucker had warned him that he might not like what he sees, warned him that his parents might not be alive.

"Kid, don't get your hopes up, It probably ain't gonna be pretty"

Anticipation had gnawed at his bones like thousands of tiny rats digging at his skin. He took deep breaths as he had walked up to the front door. He knocked. Nobody answered. Tucker had managed to kick the door down.

As soon as it was down, Carl had run into his home, praying that he wouldn't find his mom and dad's dead bodies on the floor. But there was nothing there, he checked their rooms and their clothes were missing, as well as food and their car.

They had left him for dead.

Abandoned him.

Carl would never forgive them for it.

He had gone up into his room, grabbed his clothes and two other things. His moms' Perfume and his Dad's Sheriff's hat. He might have hated and blamed his parents, but he still wanted to remember them.

Tucker had pulled him into a bone-crushing hug as Carl had broken down into sobs outside what was once his house.

The drive back to camp was long and painful, Tucker had tried to put music on to make Carl smile, but they both knew that it was a lost cause.

When they had pulled up in the driveway, they immediately knew that something was wrong. The front door had been smashed in and the handle was missing. But the biggest giveaway was the trail of dark, gooey blood on the doorstep.

They had jumped out of the car, Tucker cocked his gun and sprinted inside. There was no point in rushing, Carl knew that they would be dead, if they were alive then they would have closed the door.

Carl had been right. Thomas and his mom twitched on the ground, their bodies dragged around as walkers grabbed ribbons of gunky flesh and crunched on bone. Tucker had straight away picked up up his gun and shot them both in the head.

Of course, Tucker blamed him, shouted at him, told him that if he hadn't of gone with Carl then his wife and son would still be alive.

Carl had stupidly believed him, feeling the guilt consume him.

Tucker eventually stopped blaming Carl and started blaming himself. It was Carl's turn to be his shoulder to cry on. Tucker had quickly learned that Carl was the only one that he had left. That's when they packed their bags and left, never returning to that area again.

They traveled for months, surviving on the road, no shelter apart from the occasional building they saw or the trees. It was hell, complete and utter hell. This was until they found a small cabin in the middle of the woods, it was secluded, safe. They would get the occasional walker, but they were easily killed by Tucker.

Tucker had started to be tough on Carl, he would force him to practice every single day, to the point of Carl being so exhausted that once when Tucker was training him, he actually passed out.

Tucker taught him how to shoot, how to use ring daggers until his fingers were covered in blisters, how to use knives and machetes.

He taught him how to set up snares, how to hunt. Carl remembered that Tucker wouldn't let him go to sleep until he got a bull's eye, told him that survivors don't sleep until they hit the target. He would constantly be drenched in sweat and covered in bruises and scratches as Tucker trained him.

His muscles always ached from the hand to hand combat training, and his heart ached at the thought of his family. Blood, sweat, and tears were shed.

The first time he had taught him hand to hand combat, Carl hadn't dodged his punch in time and had landed, ass first, onto the hard floor. Catching himself an ugly black eye. Carl had cried, he tried not to but he couldn't help it.

"Come on boy, In this world, there ain't any time for tears. Get back up, brush yer self off, and fight back" Tucker had said and pulled him back up.

Every time he had cried, every time he had fallen down, Tucker would look him in the eyes and say the words that kept Carl fighting.

"Destroy what Destroys you".

Years passed and by the age of thirteen he could hit the bull's eye, he could defend himself against walkers, and he could fight without falling on his ass, he still couldn't beat Tucker, but the man was huge and Carl was still only thirteen.

He would stare in the cracked mirror and stare at his reflection, his hair had grown, he had lost some of his baby fat and had grown taller. But he was still the same skinny boy with the messy hair and sheriff's hat, but this boy was much stronger and meaner than the one before the coma. This boy no longer feared walkers, instead, he hunted them.

Things changed when he was fourteen years old. He had walked out, down to the stream nearby to filter some water. He had taken his time, knowing that he had no reason to rush. He washed in the fresh stream and filtered the water calmly, enjoying the relaxing sound of birds chirping.

But his world came crashing in on him when he arrived back in the cabin that he had grown to call his home.

Tucker was on the floor, his chest rose up and down rapidly. His legs twitched and black liquid bubbled from his mouth. He screamed in pain, but the screams turned into gurgles as he choked on the blood that flowed from his face was contorted in pain.

Four walkers gnawed on his intestines that were being ripped viciously out of his jerking body. Disgust pushed up through Carls' throat, like rejected stomach acid. He might have screamed, he may have even cried, He might have been on the floor, a blubbering mess of snot and tears, but he can't remember.

Carl had done the only humane thing, he picked up his Desert Eagle and shot him right between the eyes.

He had to close his eyes, he couldn't bear to see Tucker hurt. Tucker was the only father figure that he had left and he had killed him. Then, his bullets had ripped through all of the walker's skulls. As soon as they were all dead, Carl grabbed his bags and stuffed them to the brim with his essentials, not forgetting his mom's perfume and his dads' hat. Carl looked around for something of Tuckers that he could take with him, something to remember him by.

Tuckers golden watch sat on the bedside table. He had always worn that watch, ever since the first time that Carl had met him, he had been wearing it. Carl picked it up and put it in his bag.

With a tear being shed, he had walked straight out of the cabin. He had no idea where he was even going to go. But he turned his head and left the bloody mess behind him.

Tucker was the only reason that he's alive right now. Tucker shaped him from the broken, little kid, and into the strong young man, he is now.

It's been a year since that all happened, now Carl, at fifteen years old, continued to walk.

His hand still hovered over his desert eagle. He doesn't have a set destination in mind, he's just following the tracks, hoping that they will take him somewhere. He can't hunt anymore because he doesn't have his crossbow, That's why he's not in the forest anymore.

Carl knows that he is exposed when he's on the tracks, but it doesn't matter. He can kill walkers easily and he hasn't seen any survivors. He shrugged his backpack further up his shoulders and continued onwards, ignoring the heavy bag and gritted his teeth as his boots rub his feet raw.

Anxiety hung around him like a dark impenetrable cloud. He couldn't help but be a little scared of the unknown, it's just human nature.

Carl's face scrunched up in annoyance and he subconsciously wiped his sweaty bangs away from his eyes with the back of his sleeve, nearly knocking off his hat in the process.

Carl shone his torch on the rocky train track beneath his feet, Cursing to himself that he didn't look for a place to sleep when it was lighter. He looks up at the bright moonlight, he should probably conserve his battery on his torch. He doesn't know how longs it's gonna last. He really needs to find some sort of town or city, anywhere with a convenience store. He's down to his last bottle of fresh water. But he has thankfully got a spile that he can use to filter water from trees, so at least he won't die from dehydration.

Carl kicked a loose rock of the track and headed over to a small patch of woodlands opposite the tracks. He stepped around a large oak and pulled up short, seeing a rather large tree with wide branches and a canopy filled with leaves. A blanket of leaves and twigs cracked beneath him as he walked over to the sturdy trunk.

That will do, he could easily climb up the branches and sleep there for the night. Then in the morning, he can hunt for some sort of small town or house.

Carl looked up at the branch that he wanted to sleep on, he unhooked his rucksack from his back and threw it onto the high branch, luckily landing it perfectly. He put his foot on one of the dents in the bark and hauled himself up.

Within a couple of minutes, he was up high enough that he was concealed by the leaves. He unbuckled his belt and wrapped it around his thighs so he wouldn't fall out, that would sting like a bitch.

Another night alone. How many nights has he been alone now? Over 300 at least ?.

Carl felt the odd urge to snicker - what's the point of him living anyway? He just wakes up, tries to find food, hopes for humanity, pisses, sleeps again and walks around. What a great life.

Carl yawned and leaned his head against the dirty trunk, causing his hat to fall and cover his eyes.

He closed his eyes and somehow forced the disturbing thoughts away from his mind.

Carl woke up to the sun warming his body. He had to drag himself out of his uncomfortable branch and will himself to move on forward. He landed on his feet, his bag fell to the ground.

He clicked his neck stretched out his stiff joints, a low pain in the small of his back from sleeping in an odd position.

He rummaged through his backpack, digging out a half-drunk, bottle of water. He unscrewed the cap and practically inhaled the water. His mouth watered as soon as the warm liquid hit his tongue. It was gone in an instant, not even close to quenching his dire thirst.

A branch suddenly snapped somewhere to his right. He jerked his head up to the direction of the sound. He held his breath and listened.

Another snap, this time it sounded louder and came from his left.

"Who's there ?"He asked, his voice sounding unfamiliar to him, he ignored the fact that it cracked. A tingle of fear made it's way up his dry throat.

His hand darted to his desert eagle, he quickly pulled it out of its holster and held it out in front of him, ready to shoot something down, With a flick of his finger the safety was off and he was ready to kill.

He stealthily and slowly circled around, checking his surroundings. He couldn't see anything. It might have been a small animal or a critter, it could have been a number of things. But that doesn't mean that he wasn't gonna be careful.

"Who's out there ?"He yelled and readied himself for an attack.

Another twig broke, this one sounding like someone had bent it over their knee and cracked it.

"I'm not afraid to shoot !" He shouted. "Where are you ?"

Instead of answering the person gave up all attempts at being silent and started running, twigs and branches cracked as they darted between the trees. Carl circled around, his body jerking around to try and stop his attacker. He spotted a blur of black and narrowed his eyes, he ignored the way his hands shook as he held his gun.

"Get 'em, boys !"A husky voice suddenly called out.

"Who the hel..."

A sharp pain in the back of his head stopped him from finishing.

And darkness overcame his mind once again.


	2. Chapter 2

A deep, throbbing pain echoed through his mind and hammered against the back of his sore eyelids. Carl winced and jerked his head back. Pained radiated through his skull and he whined. He didn't care that he sounded pathetic.

A cold sensation ran down his race, he felt something wet trickle down his forehead. The weird sensation trickled from his face, and spread onto his lap, almost as if it were soaking into his jeans. It made him feel wet and uncomfortable.

His eyes felt heavy and tired as if they were magnets clinging to his face. He dragged then open slowly, immediately liquid rushed into his eyes and caused a light sting. His hands darted up to his face and wiped the liquid out of his sore eyes.

"Finally," Someone moaned. "Thought you were a goner".

Carl looked up and registered his surroundings. The first thing he saw was a young-ish man crouching down in front of him. The man had short, brown hair and a light stubble. The man was smirking at Carl, almost too friendly for comfort. Warning bells rang immediately.

The second thing that he noticed was that he was in some sort of wooden room, it almost looked like a wooden train cart. It was grotty and stank of urine. Carl scrunched his face up in disgust. A light was coming through small holes of the train chart, adding some brightness to the miserable cabin.

He noticed the pain. It was low and throbbing through his skull. It felt like someone was continuously hammering at the back of his head, but there was a small prick of burning at the heart of the wound.

The heaviness of a chain on his ankle weighed deep. Carl tried to move his foot but the chain was on so tightly that he couldn't even flinch. It pinched at his skin and ached.

"Good morning kid,"The man said and smiled. He looked pretty well groomed, he had obviously shaved and showered.

Carl's eyed narrowed in on the gun that was strapped to his holster. If he could just distract him enough to grab the weapon, then he could shoot him and make a run for it.

Carl tried to blink away the fogginess. His head hurt pretty bad. He couldn't focus on anything and the feeling of disorientation filled his body.

He said nothing, he just stared daggers at the man.

"Sorry about the water, Danny hit you pretty hard and I was sick of waiting"The man suddenly said, bringing Carl's attention back to him.

Carl spotted the empty bottle of water in the man's hand. He narrowed his eyes. That son of a bitch just threw it over his head. He looks down at his wet clothes, hopefully, his body heat will dry them soon.

"It'd be a good morning if you hadn't soaked me in water"He spat at the man that was in front of him.

The man sighed. "Yeah well it'd be a dandy morning for me if I didn't have to deal with you, but here we are now"He flashed a shit-eating grin at Carl.

"Nah, I'm only joking. I just wanted to see what our new ray of sunshine looked like when he wasn't waving a gun about".

Carl coughed, clearing his dry throat. Every time he coughed it sent treadmills of throbbing pain through his head. He had been hit way too hard.

"Who the hell are you? And why do you want me ?!"He yelled, cutting through the bullshit.

Carl realized that he had been learning closer with every word that he had said. He had no memory of doing so. He had to control himself, make sure that he didn't do anything reckless that would get him killed.

The man smirked. "My names Gareth, and welcome to Terminus".

Carl only stared at Gareth. He had seen the signs that were put around by the tracks.

'Sanctuary for all, a community for all. Those who arrive. Survive'.

He had read those words in his head hundreds of times. Each time he had passed the sign, he would ignore it. He wasn't confident enough. He knew that if he went to a sanctuary then they would take away his weapons, smother him and ask him questions. He wasn't ready for that. He would much rather find a small group or something. But then again, he couldn't be picky.

Every time he would pass one of those he would think 'Maybe tomorrow?'. He would psych himself up to going, but he would always freak out at the last second.

Gareth scratched his head and clearly waited for Carl to ask some more burning questions. But Carl was weary. Why the hell would a 'sanctuary' kidnapped a kid ?. Then it dawned on him. He was an idiot for even thinking about it being a sanctuary for one second. Of course, there wouldn't be a sanctuary, there is nothing anyone.

"You're not a sanctuary are you ?"He asked and his brows crashed together. He shifted in his seat. He already knew the answer, he just wanted to hear it himself.

Gareth grinned, but it looked like he was sneering.

"Guessing you've seen the signs then ?"He asked and laughed.

"Answer the question" Carl cut in quickly. He didn't want to have to deal with this guy being all friendly. He couldn't find one cell in his body that gave a damn.

Gareth shifted and raised his eyebrows. "Kid, I'll be asking the questions, unless you'd fancy yourself sporting a nice, ugly bruise on that pretty little face of yours ?".

"I couldn't give a shit"He growled, already pissed off at the man. Maybe he was bluffing, maybe he wasn't. Either way, he was probably going to find out soon.

"I just want answers," he said, feeling bolder by the second.

Gareth laughed. His laugh was throaty and deep. With each chuckle, he slowly got closer to Carl's face. The veins in his neck bulged in thick coils. He got so close to Carl's face that he could smell the man's putrid breath that stank of meat and morning breath. It was a disgusting combination. Carl winced and scrunched his face up in disgust.

A blind rage like fire swept over him. He was sick of being confused, sick of not knowing what was happening.

Gareth calmed down and stood up, he smoothed out the wrinkles in his dark trousers and headed over to the wooden door. Carl watched him and narrowed his eyes, thoughts flooded through his ears and poked at his sore brain.

"I'll be back shortly, don't even try to escape"He threatened. "They're armed guards right outside" His captor pulled out a key from his pocket He then walked out and slammed the door behind him. Carl could hear him locking it from the outside.

Carl groaned and leaned his head against the wall behind him. His head throbbed and pain stabbed at his skull like thousands of tiny shards of glass, scratching at the surface. He placed his fingers gently against the wound on the back of his head. He screwed his face up in worry as he saw the bright blood painted on his fingertips.

Carl regretted ever dreaming of finding other people. If this is what people are like then he would just rather face walkers. At least with walkers, he actually knew what they want. Not all this mystery crap that Gareth was pulling.

The emptiness of his holsters hung heavily on his belt. They had taken his gun and his machete. They even took to knives that were strapped around his ankles. He was completely weaponless.

He cringed to think about how they he checked for his weapons, patted him down? Stripped him?

The thought of anyone's hands on him made him shiver with nausea. Especially Gareth. The guy really creeped him out.

The smell of rotting wood slowly started to drive Carl mad. The annoyance and anger slowly brewed hotter and hotter with each passing hour that Carl was locked up. He just wanted to wait for Gareth to come back and let out all of his anger that had been brewing in the slow hours that he had been trapped in the dark, rotting trailer.

He had tried countless times to get the chain off his ankle. His ankle bled and burned from all the scratches and cuts that were caused by his fingers digging at the rusty chain. A layer of blood and pink skin stretched up his foot. His fingernails were dirty and bleeding from tugging at the metal. He had given up after about an hour of trying to escape from the chain.

He scanned to room for any sort of weapon that he could use. But to his disappointment, he couldn't see anything apart from a loose piece of floorboard on the other side of the trailer, but there was no way that he could ever reach that.

His stomach growled as a deep, burning hunger built up inside him. He really needed some food. Just the thought of it made his stomach rumble and his mouth water. But there was nothing to eat, no way of escaping, and no weapons.

And so he sat, staring at the wooden door. Waiting for Gareth. With nothing but the stench of molding wood and an empty stomach. He was just left to think of different ways of escaping. None of them seemed possible.

He occasionally heard the sound of mumbling coming from outside and footsteps shuffling from outside of the door. Gareth clearly wasn't bluffing when he said that there were armed guards outside.

The hours dragged on like snails on a dry heard the padlock opening. He quickly sat up in anticipation.

Gareth appeared in the trailer. He was holding a plate of what looked like to be some sort of meat. The smell filled up the cabin and Carl's mouth started salivating at the sight of the meat and potato.

Gareth smirked and placed the food in front of Carl. He then sat down in front of him on the floor.

"Here," He said and pointed at the food. "We didn't want you to starve to death, thought that you looked a bit too skinny," He said and gestured to the food in front of him.

Carl stared at the food, not trusting Gareth. He could have put anything inside of it. It could be really dangerous to even think about eating it. He looked up at Gareth and raised his eyebrows.

"Yeah, I know what ya thinking," Gareth said and he raised his eyebrows. "We didn't put anything in it, it's just meat from a deer that we caught a couple of days ago".

"Prove it," Carl said quickly, not trusting the man. He nudged the plate over to Gareth and looked him in the eyes.

"I can assure you..."

"Shut up and prove it" Carl interrupted.

He stared at Gareth with a blank expression until he picked up the fork that he had provided Carl with. There was no knife as the meat was cut up into bite-sized pieces. Shame, he could have used a knife to his advantage. But there's still a lot that he can do with a fork.

Gareth sighed and reached down to pick up a piece of the meat.

"No," Carl cut in quickly. "That piece," He said and pointed to a random chunk of meat on the plate.

"Jesus kid, you're a real piece of work" Gareth muttered. He picked up the meat that Carl pointed to and plopped it in his mouth.

"See, It's just deer," He said while still chewing, spittle flew out of his mouth. "Now be a good boy and eat it".

Carl gave into the hunger. He reached down and grabbed a handful of the food. He completely ignored the fork provided. As soon as the meat hit his mouth he groaned as his mouth was bombarded with different flavors that he desperately needed. It tasted like bbq source, with a hint of something else that he couldn't pinpoint. The meat itself was really chewy and very different. It's probably because he hadn't had any sort of meat in months.

Within minutes, his plate was completely empty and his stomach was uncomfortably full. The feeling was unnatural and weird to him.

"Christ, you didn't even stop to breath" Gareth joked.

"Yeah, that's what happens when you nearly starve to death" Carl replied quickly.

Gareth ignored him and stood up. He brushed off his hands and suddenly reached behind his back.

Panic went off like an alarm when Gareth pulled a gun from behind his back. It was a simple pistol. Carl forced his breathing to slow and stay even.

"Enough chit chat, time for us to go on a little field trip" With that, he picked out a small ring of keys and bent down over Carl. He clicked the safety off his gun and placed it against Carls' head.

"I'm going to take that chain off your ankle. If you try anything, I won't hesitate to blast that little sheriff's hat off your head"The man hissed through his teeth and nudged the gun harder against his head for added effect.

Carl nodded, not wanting to risk anything.

"Don't forget that there are plenty of armed guards around" He added. "Most of them you won't be able to see"He continued. Gareth held the key next to the chain on his ankle. "Don't even flinch kid, one false move and I'll pull the trigger."

Carl held his breath as he watched Gareth take the chain off hs bruised ankle. The pressure was finally relieved and the blood rushed back to his foot. There was a nasty ring of purple and rubbed raw skin around his pale ankle along with lots of nasty little cuts.

"That's gotta hurt like a bitch" Gareth whistled. Carl shot him a dirty look.

With the gun still pointed at his head, Carl was forced to get up. He stood and put more pressure on his right ankle instead of his injured one. Every time he moved his left ankle, it sent daggers of pain up and through his foot. He blinked away the tears and hissed through his teeth. The throbbing in his head only amplified as he moved and didn't improve.

Gareth kicked the door open and lead Carl through. The bright light stabbed at his eyes and he quickly closed them again.

Voices and the sound of people shuffling around filled his ears. Gareth nudged him with his gun that was still pointed at the back of Carl's head and edged him to move forward.

They were in a pretty big courtyard. It almost looked as if there were lots of mini factories and warehouses surrounding them. They were about five train cars lined up and around the tall, guarded fences. People were walking around as if seeing Carl at gunpoint was completely normal. In the distance, he could even see women cooking something on a bbq.

Gareth wasn't bluffing when he said that there were armed guards everywhere. Carl spotted a few snipers on the roofs of the buildings as well. With everything that he saw, the slimmer his chances of escaping got.

Sounds of thumping and talking came from one of the train carts closest to Carl. He darted his eyes over to it. Through the tiny cracks in the wood, he could see shadows moving around.

Suddenly, a man walked over to Gareth and Carl. He was very tall and stocky. His thick beard covered his face and there was even an ugly tattoo crawling up his sweaty neck.

"This the kid ?," The man asked and pointed at Carl.

"Yep, need him in room 03" Gareth answered, acting as if Carl wasn't even there.

"Really? ya sure ?"The tall man questioned and raised his bushy eyebrows.

"Kids not old enough for 04, plus, we haven't even got the rest of 'em in 04. We should wait a couple days, weaken them until we're ready to put them in there. It was hard enough with 03, let alone 04" Gareth said.

Carl's already throbbing head hurt with thinking about what Gareth said. He didn't understand any of it.

He could run, they clearly wouldn't kill him if he tried something, if they were going to kill him, then they would have done it already.

Neck Tattoo nodded and rustled around in his pocket. He pulled his hand out to reveal plastic straps.

"Give me your hands"He grumbled at Carl.

Carl did nothing, instead, he glared at the man.

"Christ sake, give em out to grab them"

As soon as he was about to grab them, Carl unexpectedly swung out and slammed his elbow back, knocking Gareths hand away from Carl's head.

The shot of the gun going off was loud. It boomed through Carl's ears and shook his brain. The vibrations rattled his bones and made his blood shake.

Blood suddenly splattered on his face, nearly getting in his mouth. He stumbled, trying to focus on standing upright. His ears rang and everything was muffled.

Adrenaline pumped through his veins and helped him to clear his mind. He couldn't hear anything apart from the sound of muffled panic and ringing.

Carl's eyes focused on something shiny on the ground. It was Gareths gun. He had knocked it out of his hand. Before he could even think about, he jumped down and grabbed the gun off the floor. He ignored the pain of his knuckles scraping against the concrete ground.

David was screaming. A stream of blood flowed from his thigh. His lips were tinted with blood and he grabbed at his injury.

Gareth was mouthing something at the guards around him. But Carl didn't stay long enough to find out. Instead, he turned around and bolted as quickly as he could. His ears starting to get clearer by the second.

"Wait! Don't kill him !"

He didn't know where he was going, he just needed to get away. He could feel the vibrations and the spray of dust from the bullets barely missing him.

Panic and fear traveled through his body as he narrowly dodged the sea of bullets. They were aiming at his feet and legs, obviously not wanting to kill him.

Carl reached a nearby alleyway. He checked behind him to see if anyone was coming, thankfully, there was no one. He sprinted down the alleyway and towards a building. Before he could even touch the door on the massive building, he turned around and spotted five guys creeping towards him.

Without hesitating, Carl raised his weapon and shot two of them in the skull. Blood exploded like jets out of the men's' skulls along with pink gunk. Carl forced back his gag reflex and kept on running. He didn't feel anything thing he killed the men, he was just numb.

He learned a long time ago; Destroy what destroys you.

The other three men ran towards him and started shooting.

He quickly dived behind a nearby dumpster just as the sound of glass shattering and bullets filled the alley. Bullets thudded at the dumpster, shooting past him.

Carl crouched low, it was impossible to even aim from this position. He looked down at his gun. He almost screamed with frustration as he saw that he was out of ammo.

How could he be so stupid? running away with dozens of armed guards surrounding him. Carl leaned against the dumpster, thinking about his slim options.

"Lower your weapons !"Gareth shouted from the distance.

A man with a deep, husky voice answered him "Why? We were aiming for his feet !"

"I don't give a shit ! he wasn't gonna go anywhere".

"He killed David! And George and Fred, do you not give a damn about them ?"

"Don't act like you give a rats ass about them! "Gareth shouted. "Trust me, you'll get your own back".

Gareths men shuffled. Carl could hear him bark commands at them.

"Carl, come out, you know you're screwed either way !"Gareth shouted.

Carl made his move. He knew that he wasn't going to win. It was pointless.

He raised his hands above his head and stood. That was the best option. The _only_ option.

"Get over here now" Gareth spat. His veins bulged in his neck and he knuckles were in fists at his sides. It almost looked as if he was vibrating with anger.

Carl did as he was told. When he got to Gareth, he whipped out his hand and grabbed Carl by his collar.

Suddenly he raised his hand and brought it to Carls' cheek. Everything was silent apart from the sound of the back of his hand connecting to his cheek. Carl's head jerked to the side, it took him a couple of seconds to register the stinging pain that followed.

"You deserved that you little shit," seepsGareth growled and grabbed Carls. He yanked a piece of plastic wrap around them and pushed him forward.

Carl stumbled and fell to his knees. He didn't even stay on the ground for a second as Gareth harshly yanked him back up by his hoodie. He tried to pull his arms free from the plastic wrap but it was completely pointless. He was screwed. He kicked out at Gareth and tried to scratch and bite him but it just resulted in another sharp slap.

Before he knew it, he was being dragged inside and down a long corridor. The walls were all gray and the floors were dirty tiles. There was one door at the very end of the corridor, it was big and metal. Two armed men stood outside.

"Get off me !"He screamed.

Carl lashed out and his fists caught Gareth in the chin with a painful 'thump'.

"Son of a bitch !"Gareth yells as his head jerks back due to the impact of the punch.

He pushed Carl forcefully to the hard ground. He connected to the ground face first. His nose cracked against the floor and hot pain seeped through his already hurt face. Warm blood flew from his nose and gushed onto the floor.

Carl could do nothing except struggle against Gareths weight. One of the men that was standing against the door ran over.

He grabbed Carl and wrapped his hands around his forearm and pulled him. Gareth grabbed the other. They yanked him up, dragging him across the ground; his feet slid against the floor as he tried to get away, but they were too strong.

Gareth suddenly shoved the gun in Carl's face. Carl squinted his eyes as he blindly stared into the barrel of the gun.

"Why the hell do you keep on forgetting that I have a gun! Are screwed up or something?"Gareth yelled in Carls' face.

"Let me go then!"Carl shouted back.

The other man that helped Gareth grab Carl grumbled. "Whatever Gareth, let's just lock him in the room and teach him a lesson".

Gareth sighed. "Guess we are going to have to do this the hard way then" He pointed to the metal door and a squat guy with black hair pulled out some keys and unlocked the door. It opened with a heavy squeal and Carl heard muffled talking suddenly come to a halt on the other side.

Gareth let go of Carl and walked into the room. He gestured at the man who was holding Carl to follow.

He let himself get dragged into the room. His energy was slowly getting sucked out of his body by the second.

"That's a good boy, no need to fight".

The room was lit with three hanging bulbs that occasionally flickered. The floor was made up with gray tiles, some of which were covered in small dots of blood. But that's not what Carls attention was focused one. He stared in shock at all the women that were sat on the floor by the wall. All of their wrists and ankles were wrapped up tightly with duct tape. He looked at the women and sees that there is exactly five of them. None of them seemed to be severely injured, apart from an ugly bruise on the brunette women's face.

Gareth claps his hands together and smiles. "Hello ladies, I hope you don't mind some company" One of the women raised her eyes and shared a dark look between her and her 'companions'.

The brunette with the ugly bruise spoke between heavy breaths "What are you going to do with us ?" She asked, her voice trembled and broke. Tears stained her rosy cheeks and her body shook with fear.

"I think you already know that,"Gareth replied.

"But why the wait, why not just get it over with ?"A fierce woman with dreadlocks added.

Gareth sighed. "Let me put this in a way that you'll understand, you ain't gonna slaughter the pigs if you don't need any bacon, so why kill them now when you can save them"

"Tastes better when it's fresher" The short, stocky man piped up.

He couldn't even process what he was hearing. He felt sick, he had to swallow down the bile that had risen in his dry throat. They couldn't be implying what he thought they were implying.

Gareth stood and stared at Carl and smiled. "Now, I think we should go through the consequences of your idiotic actions". He sighed. "I can't let you get away with killing three of our men. Plus, I made a promise to everyone that you'll get the punishment that you deserve".

Carl couldn't think of anything to say to the man. There was no snide remark, no nothing. His mind was completely and utterly blank.

Gareth quickly pulled his hands back and pushed Carl to the floor. His head connected to the ground for the second time and pain surged through his skull.

Before he could even try to move, Gareth had jumped on top of him. His legs were wrapped around the youths small torso.

Carl squirmed to get free but was interrupted as Gareth rained strong punches down at Carl's unprotected body.

Carl couldn't hold back the scream that had built inside his throat. Pain flooded him and that was the only thing that he could focus on. He bucked up his hips, trying in vain to the get the vile man of him, but it didn't work.

"Stop! leave the boy alone !"Someone screamed.

"Someone shut her up !"Gareth shouted, spittle flying into Carl's contorted face.

Carl yelled out in pain. He shook and trembled, trying to wriggle out of his hold.

Gareth focused his cold, dark gaze on Carl as he continued to beat him black and couldn't even distinguish where the man was punching him anymore. All the pain just merged into one, deep, fiery burn that stabbed at his body.

Suddenly, the weight was lifted off his body and Carl sucked in breaths of relief, soon followed by the pain settling into his bones. Gareth stood up, a female guard that Carl didn't even notice was in the room gave him a wet towel. Gareth wiped his blood and his split knuckles with it and threw it to the ground.

"We'll be back in the morning, don't do anything stupid," He said and turned away from Carl and proceeded towards the door, the 'guards' in tow.

Just as he was leaving he turned around and looked at the boy, "Oh, I nearly forgot,"He said as he threw Carl's hat at him.

"Can't forget that cowboy,"

With that being said he exits, leaving everyone in shock and horror.

"Destroy what destroys you..."He whispered to himself.

 **Thanks for reading chapter 2! I am really sorry about the long wait (1 month0) but my computer got a virus and my wifi has been playing up. Let's just talk about the new episodes of TWD, apparently, they are amazing but I gotta wait until my wifi's better. It's literally killing me!**

 **Anyways, I try to keep the characters true to themselves and please tell me if you think any of them should act in a different way. I tried to portray Carl as cold and numb, I hope I delivered that.**

 **Next chapter should be out soon ! (Definitely quicker than this one !).**

 **Please review and comment, I wanna know what you think :)**


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